


Wincest Love Week 2017

by NaughtyPastryChef



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Bottom Sam, Dirty Talk, First Time, Frottage, Incest Kink, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Oral Sex, Phone Sex, Prostate Massage, Rimming, Stripping, Top Dean, Underage - Freeform, Weecest, Wet Dream, forced to share a single bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-03
Updated: 2017-09-03
Packaged: 2018-12-23 10:56:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11988375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NaughtyPastryChef/pseuds/NaughtyPastryChef
Summary: Seven ficlets from wincest love week. Check the tags for additional warnings. (personally, sunday is my favorite.)





	1. Forced to Share a Single Bed

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sang_argente](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sang_argente/gifts).



Dean has never had an issue sharing a bed with Sam, not when they were little, not when they were teenagers, and not now that Sam is on the road with him again. He loves having the heat of Sam in bed with him. He loves the way those long limbs move in the night, reassuring him that Sam is right there with him, breathing and alive. He loves being close enough to hear the tiny, sweet puffs of air that Sam expels instead of snores. He’s just not sure that Sam feels the same way.

They’ve been back on the road together for almost a year now and they’re good; better than they’ve been, really, since before Dean was old enough to legally buy beer. They still bicker and fight but Sam’s nightmares have stopped and no one has threatened to take off and leave the other one in months now. There’s still something that’s keeping them apart; keeping the separate from each other. It’s not awkward, it’s barely there but it’s a feeling Dean’s got in his gut and his gut rarely if ever steers him wrong. All of these things pass through Dean’s head in the space between taking the key from the motel manager and getting back to the car, where Sam is waiting.

“Uh, looks like we gotta bunk together. One room left, King.” He tosses the key at Sam and revs up the car, peeling away from the office and heading around to the end of the building as Sam is strangely quiet.

“Sammy, you okay?” He asks, shutting off the engine and listening to the clicks as it cools down. He turns sideways to try and read the expression on Sam’s face or his body language or something, but Sam is doing his best sphinx impression.

“Yeah, it’s fine Dean, It’s nothing. Let’s get the bags. I need a shower.”

They each shower and Sam runs down the street to pick up dinner, a nice surprise for when Dean gets finished. They eat in relative, easy silence before Sam shyly produces a bottle of whiskey he must have grabbed when he picked up dinner.

“That’s my boy.” Dean exclaims and snatches the bottle out of Sam’s hand, cracking open the top and taking a long sip from the bottle. Sam laughs and turns on the tv, flipping through until he finds a re-run of Star Wars with a happy sigh.

“Oh man, Star Wars, whiskey and my little brother. What could be better?” Dean asks, draping himself across the king-sized bed with a sigh and patting the spot next to him as Sam stands awkwardly next to the bed before he shuffles onto the bed with a shy smile and a hand that reaches out for the bottle.

They pass the whiskey back and forth between them until the movie is over and into the next one, some eighties movie that neither of them have seen before and therefore don’t care about.

“Time to hit the hay, Dean?” Sam slurs happily from beside him and Dean turns to look at his wasted little brother. He nods softly and clicks off the tv and the lamp by his side of the bed, pulling the covers up over their tangled together legs.

They each lie down, a king size bed a rare luxury for both of them, even if they have to share and Dean feels more than hears Sam’s groan of pleasure when he can stretch out and his feet aren’t hanging off the end of the bed.

Dean’s not sure what wakes him countless hours later. The room is dark and quiet. Something must have woken him and he tries to roll over to find out what it was when realization hits him. His arms are curled around Sam’s torso, Sam’s body a huge line of heat all along his front. He stops a moment and takes stock of himself; His left arm is trapped underneath Sam but both of his hands are spread across Sam’s stomach. He notes, with a tiny bit of tired horror, that his hips are rocking into the perfect globes of Sam’s ass. He tries to stop the movement but it feels too good, and he can’t make himself do it.

That’s when he notices that Sam’s rocking his hips back into Dean’s. He lets out a long breath, almost a moan but quieter. He forces his hips to stop but it only makes Sam’s movements more noticeable.

“Don’t stop.” It’s even less of a sound than his moan, but he can feel the words through his whole body. His hips pick up their movement again, rocking harder and faster than they were before. Another moan slips out of his lips when he feels his cock slot perfectly between Sam’s cheeks. Sam tilts his hips and, though there’s two layers of soft cotton between them and though he can’t see it, he knows that his shaft is dragging across Sam’s hole. 

“Sammy.” The word is strained, yanked from his vocal cords without his permission. His hips are going faster now and he knows that he’s going to have fabric burn on his dick and he can’t care. The darkness of the room and the relative quiet and the heat under the covers all combines to make this some of the hottest sex he’s ever had.

“Gonna” He pants, sliding his hands, one up to Sam’s nipple and the other down to his waistband. He wants Sam to feel as good as he does.

“Do it.” Sam snarls, pressing his hips back hard enough that Dean visualizes a bruise between Sam’s cheeks as he thrusts forward, hating pajama pants, hating boxers, hating all clothes between them. He wants to feel more skin, but he realizes at the last second he doesn’t need it.

Just as his hand slips into Sam’s pants, his sweaty palm cupping over the head of Sam’s cock, Dean is coming in his pajamas. His neck muscles strain and his balls throb with the pulse of his orgasm.

“Dean, fuck Dean” he hears, distantly, before his hand is coated in Sam’s release, sticky and warm but cooling rapidly.


	2. Carpet Burns

“My fucking knees are killing me.” Dean whined, shaking his legs to get his pants away from the abraded skin. He looks over just in time to see a leer on Sam’s face before he turns away. He’s walking even more bowlegged than normal, trying to ease the ache in his legs. The carpet burn is a nuisance, really, little more than irritation compared to some of the injuries he’s had in his life, but there’s something about it today that he can’t just shake off.

“Dean, quit being such a baby. It’s just a little carpet burn, old man.” Sam jabs and hits his target, just like he always does and Dean snaps.

“Next time you get to get on your knees gigantor.” He winces as he shakes his legs out again, the rough fabric of the thrift store dress pants causing bright sparks of pain as he moves.

“You know I can’t fit like that. We’ve tried, remember?” Sam laughs again and yanks open the door to the impala before he folds his big body in and makes Dean flush with the knowledge that Sam doesn’t, in fact, fit if he’s the one on his knees. He marches over to the driver's side and yanks the door open with force and a mental apology to his baby’s hinges.

“Well I wasn’t the one who’s protein smoothie, or whatever green crap you were drinking, spilled on the backseat, so I don’t know why I had to be the one to clean it up before it started to smell.” Dean pouts, forcefully turning the key in the ignition and putting the car into gear.

“And I wasn’t the one who decided to wear shorts to clean the car or kneel on the backseat floor carpets. What is with those shorts anyway, auditioning to see if you can be the next Daisy Duke?”

“Shut up, bitch, you know you love it.” Dean guns the engine down the empty stretch of road in front of him, but even that isn’t enough to cover Sam’s reply.

“Whatever, jerk.”

(Bet you thought you were gonna get some porn here, didn’t you? Naughty naughty)


	3. Wet Dream

He can barely breathe but he feels amazing. He’s covered in Dean. He’s smothered by Dean. Dean’s scent is all that he can smell. He can feel the heat and the bulk of Dean pushing him down into the cheap mattress beneath him. HE can feel the sweat that is gathering between them and the way that droplets of it are trickling down across his ribs towards his back. He can feel Dean’s hips rocking slowly, torturously, inexorably against his own, rubbing their cocks together and making Sam squeal with pleasure.

“Dee.” He huffs out, needing something, but he doesn’t know what. Dean doesn’t speak, only smiles his special “Sammy” smile and pulls away. 

Sam whimpers, reaching his arms out to try and pull his big brother back down. Back to where he was covered and safe and enclosed in everything that Dean is within the cage of Dean’s body. He wants to be held there forever. 

All thoughts of forever are driven from his head with the first touch of Dean’s mouth on his cock. It’s hot, like all of Dean’s other touches. It should be wet, some distant part of Sam’s mind thinks though he can’t really process the thought. It feels good, but muffled, like there’s something between his flesh and Dean’s mouth and so he looks down his sweaty, teenaged body to see what it could be, but he sees nothing but Dean’s eyes. His green eyes, smiling up at him and the hint of overly pink lips on his cock when Dean’s head pulls upwards. He feels the flicker of sensation under the head of his dick and it’s too much for his teenaged body to take.

With a shout and an arch of his back that should be painful, he comes. It feels like his brain is shooting out of his dick and he likes it. He can’t help but think it’s weird, though. He thought Dean would swallow but it feels like Dean is holding it in his mouth, the way he can feel it smearing across his cock.

He opens his eyes, not knowing when he closed them and immediately, flushes red. It wasn’t real. None of it was real. His wet dream, for that’s what it was, took place in the daytime. He could see Dean in the sunlight streaming through different bedroom windows than the ones on the wall now. He looks over, across the gap between their beds, and sees instantly that Dean is awake. Sam is mortified. He slides out of bed, wincing at the cooling come in his pants and quickly runs a hand over his sheets to see if they need to be changed. When he feels that they're covered in spunk, his heart sinks. No way could he change his sheets without Dean noticing.

“Y’okay Sammy?” There’s a hard, rough tinge to Dean’s voice as he asks and Sam, for all he knows Dean better than he knows himself sometimes, can’t place it.

“I-i-i had a.. I gotta…” He’s choked up with horror and the dawning realization that he wants the dream to be real so bad that his heart hurts within his ribcage. He stands, come cooling uncomfortably in his pants, and starts to shake. His skinny teenaged body too little to deal with the emotions rushing through him. He jumps when Dean’s arms wrap around him. Dean mutely guides him over to his own twin bed and pulls the soiled pants off him. He grabs a pair of his own boxers, too big for Sam’s skinny frame but he makes sam step into them and pulls them up over Sam’s hips. Then, he guides them both down to the well-worn mattress.

“Happens to everyone Sammy. My sweet boy, Sammy. You come here, you’re freezing. Lemme just warm you up.” Dean half-rolls Sam beneath him and Sam, still lost in emotion and his dream, feels comforted by the action enough that his eyes drift closed to the sound of Dean crooning in his ears.


	4. Going to a Strip Cub Together

“Sammy! It’s your birthday! High time,little brother, to enjoy the finer things in life.” Dean slapped Sam on the shoulder and grabbed his leather jacket from where it lay over a chair in the kitchen. He plucked the keys off the key ring at the door and stood, waiting, for Sam to catch up.

“Uh, what?” Sam finally managed.

“Your birthday. The big one-eight! C’mon! I got a brand new fake id for you and a whole day planned.” Dean reached over and grabbed the sleeve of Sam’s shirt and tugged him towards the door. Sam, dragging his feet at what Dean might have planned but the prospect of spending the whole day with his big brother was too enticing to pass up.

“What about school, Dean?” Sam asked as Dean shoved him into the car.

“C’mon, my little brother only turns eighteen once. You can miss one day, Sammy. Don’t you wanna spend the day with big brother?”  _ Oh so fucking much _ Sam thought as the car peeled away from the parking lot of the week’s crappy motel.

By noon, they were happily drunk and Dean was licking his lips as he looked over at Sam, debating if Sam was ready for the next stop. He gazed over at his big, little brother and saw a happy, goofy smile, the likes of which he hadn’t seen on Sam’s face in years.

“Strip club?” Dean asked, watching Sam’s face closely for an answer. He wasn’t really sure about this part of the day’s plans; wasn’t really sure if he wanted to take Sam to that kind of place and let him get all hot and bothered over the dancers there, but he was going to take his cues from Sam all the way here. Afterall, it was Sam’s day.

Sam’s eyes went wide for a fraction of a second, then narrowed in thought. When he spoke, his voice was wavering, cracking, like it did the year that Sam was fourteen, and Dean was instantly transported back to that time when he’d first realized that Sam was everything he’d ever wanted in life.

“You wanna go to a strip club with me?” Dean grinned in the loose, happy way he had when he was this level of buzzed and tried not to inject too much flirtation back towards Sam as he turned towards the strip club on the corner and started walking.

“Think you’re gonna like this, Sammy.”

Sam was beautiful on a normal day, but flushed with alcohol and arousal, Dean couldn’t keep his eyes off him. Sam had already admonished him to keep his eyes on the dancers more than once, but he couldn’t help himself. Sammy, his Sammy, was the most beautiful and erotic thing in the room to him.

“You’d look better on stage than any of those women, you know?” He slurred into Sam’s ear, watching the full body shiver that went through his beautiful brother at hearing them. Sam turned and Dean got a glimpse of Sam’s beautiful multi-colored eyes before the dilated completely.

“Yeah?” Sam asked, sounding strange, but Dean was drunk enough, on alcohol and his brother, that he couldn’t place the tone.

“So much more gorgeous than they are Sammy. I’d give you everything I have. Watch you strut around on stage, tight little ass hanging out of some booty shorts. Sweet, sculpted chest out on display. You got the sweetest little nipples Sammy. D’you like touchin them? Like havin someone suck on them and pinch them and nite them? Bet you’re so sensitive all over.” Dean couldn’t stop the things coming out of his mouth but the way Sam was squirming in his seat made him not want to.

“I got one more present for you Sammy, but it’s only if you want it. You want big brother’s last gift for you?” He asked, his whole body throbbing with want as he realized that it wasn’t just Sam getting off from all the dirty things he was saying. Sam pulled his bottom lip into his mouth and Dean groaned.

“What’s the last gift Dean?” Dean slid his hand down his own stomach, along the cut of his hip and openly grabbed his chubbed up cock in his pants.

“What do you think Sam?”

“I think it’s past time to get out of here.”

“Damn straight sweetheart.” He pushed himself out of the chair and to his feet, steady enough to extend a hand down to Sam. He yanked Sammy to his feet and pulled him in close. “Gonna dance for me baby?” He cupped a hand around Sam’s ass cheek and guided him out of the crowded club towards the car.

“You want a lap dance big brother? I heard you can’t touch the dancers. Would you behave?” Sam knew from the less-than-gentle squeeze to his rear and the soft groan from his brother’s chest that Dean liked to get as good as he gave. Boldly, he shoved Dean up against the car and pressed his body against him from knee to chest. Slowly, obviously, he ground his hips against Dean’s to watch the fluttering of his eyes in pleasure.

“Or do you want me to strip for you? Put on some Zep and sway my hips as I pull my clothes off so slowly and show you how I like to be touched? Hmm? You want a show, Big brother?”

Dean humped his hips forward, making their clothed cocks rub together and both of them moaned with the fiery pleasure of it.

“I want you to get your sweet ass in the fuckin car before we both blow a load in our jeans. Then I want you to dance for me. Then, when you’re all naked, I want you to give me a lap dance in our bed. Then I’m gonna get my tongue and my fingers and my cock inside you and give you the birthday gift I’ve wanted to give you every year since you were fifteen.”


	5. One phones the other while the latter is having sex

“‘Lo?” Dean can feel himself panting into the phone and he knows that he probably shouldn’t have answered but ever since Sammy left for school he can’t not pick up the phone, hoping, praying it’s him. He shifts his hips, making stars burst behind his eyes when the prostate massager hits the spot.

“Dean?” Comes the tentative voice and Dean’s whole world explodes into color. 

“Sammy? OH baby boy. Little brother.” He know there’s more sex in his voice than there should be, but his cock is so hard and the little toy is rubbing his prostate so right and Sam’s voice is in his ear.

“Are.. are you having sex?” Sam’s scandalized voice makes Dean huff out a laugh and he shifts his body to make the feelings less intense so that he can focus on Sam more.

“‘S’not sex when it’s just yourself, Sammy. You drunk?” He can barely hear the way that Sam pants, openmouthed, like he does when he’s a little drunk through the tinny speaker of the phone.

“M’little drunk and you’re jerking off. S’weird even for us Dee.” Dean can hear rustling through the phone, the sounds of Sam getting comfortable and he smears a hand through the collected sweat on his chest before moving it up to pluck at his nipples.

“You gonna join me little brother?” He can’t stop the question, but now that it’s out there, he doesn’t want to. He wants to see what will happen. He wants to know Sam is on the complete opposite coast of him, jerking his dick same as him.

“You want me to?” Sam’s breathless already and Dean reaches down to shift the tiny handle of the prostate massager to his the spot again, making himself moan loudly.

“Yeah c’mon. Get off with me. Get that monster outta your pants little brother, and stroke it. Tell me what you’re doing. Wanna hear what I’m doing?”

A panting sigh of ‘yes’ comes through the phone and it’s the sweetest thing Dean has heard in a long time. He grips the phone tighter to his ear and pulls hard at his nipple hissing when he twists it at the end. He looks down the length of his body and sees his cock twitch as precome bubbles from the tip.

“You got that big dick out, baby boy? Don’t wanna do this alone.” He sighs and swipes his free hand up his cock, slicking it in all the precome there.

“Yeah big brother, I’m just squeezing the head to get hard. Tell me what you’re doing.” Sam whines and Dean has to close his eyes and picture it; Sam’s long, lanky body spread across a too-small college mattress, big dick in hand and phone clutched to his face.

“M’naked. Sweaty. Been teasing myself. My nipples are all red and swollen, pulled at them for a while, you know? Got myself in the mood before I even pulled off all my clothes just teasing at them. They’re so sensitive Sammy. Are yours?” He rotates the toy in his ass and gasps quietly so that he can hear the answer.

“Mmmm, yeah. Like to have them sucked on. What else Dean, c’mon. Wanna get off with you.”

“My cock is so hard, Sammy. So hard and so wet. Been ignoring it, cause, I got a new toy today. Prostate massager. I don’t like bottoming, Sammy, I like to be in control. Love the feeling of my dick being inside someone. But men who ignore their prostate are missing out on some good stuff. It - FUCK - feels so good baby. It’s just rubbing right there. Can’t even describe it.” He’s having trouble breathing and he’s sweating even more now. He angles the massager into his prostate and fucks his hips down onto it and it feels so good it hurts. IT takes a minute for him to come back into his body and he can hear the wet sound of Sam’s hand flying over his cock even through the phone.

“Love bottoming Dee. Love the feeling of someone being inside of me. Wanna get fucked hard sometimes. Do you - OH - you like to be ridden? That’s the best. Just slamming my hips up and down over and over again till it feels like I’m gonna get bruised.” Sam’s breathing has picked up again and Dean feels like he’s on fire. He finally can’t take it anymore and wraps a hand around his dick.

“You close baby? We gonna come together? M’so close. Want it. Want you. Wanna sit you on my dick and watch the show as you bounce away. Wanna sit up and suck on your pretty little nipples. Can you come on my dick alone? You got some fingers in that pretty asshole?” He feels depraved and so horny. He’s never been one for dirty talk in the bedroom, but Sam always brings out something else in him.

“Four. I got four fingers in my hole. Want more. I can come on just your dick. Wanna show you. C’mon Dee. Come inside me. Fuck me hard and leave me wet and fucked open. C’mon oh-oh-oh Deeeeee.”

One good stroke of his hand up his cock and the sound of Sam whining and coming in his ear and he’s done for. He bears down on the toy in his ass and comes all over himself, the first shot reaching all the way up to his chin as his muscles curl up and lock while his balls pulse hard enough to make him nearly black out. He knows he tried to say Sam’s name but he thinks it may have missed the mark. Lights are bursting behind his eyes.

“Dean?” He hears Sammy’s voice distantly, through the fog of the best orgasm he’s had in ages. He clears his throat and wishes for a damn drink.

“Yeah, Sammy?” The only reply he gets is the sound of Sam breathing; his favorite sound aside from Sam’s heartbeat.

“I miss you.” He finally says to the sounds of Sam’s breathing. He’s drifting off into sleep, can’t open his eyes and doesn’t really want to since he knows that the only thing he wants to see is Sam, and Sam isn’t really there.

“I miss you too Dean.”


	6. NSFW with no hands

Their first time is rushed. Hands and teeth and bruising marks. Sweat and stink of two teenaged boys frotting themselves into oblivion. The second time is slower, hands and eyes caressing each body part as though it is something brand new.

The third time, though, that’s Dean’s favorite.

The third time he got to have Sammy, he used his mouth. He started at Sam’s shaggy head of hair. Breathing in the sweet scent of his clean scalp. Pressing kisses to the top of his head, then down to his ears. He kissed the underside of Sam’s chin while Sammy giggled breathlessly. He tongued his way down Sam’s long neck, gaining more happy sighs and sweet giggles for his trouble.

He mouthed across the breadth of shoulders that were only going to get bigger as Sam continued to grow. He licked his way down to brown nipples begging to be licked, sucked, bitten and so he did. He switched back and forth until Sam was whining, squirming under him and the brown nipples were pink and flushed, plump and pointed.

He kissed down the lines of Sam’s skinny tummy, outlining the muscles with his tongue.

The head of Sam’s cock bumped the side of his chin and his skipped it to suck hickeys into Sam’s hips, leaving his mark.

Dan shoved his body to the end of the bed and took up again, kissing the bottom of Sam’s overlarge feet. He nipped the insides of Sam’s ankles and nearly got a knee in the eye when Sam jerked his leg away. He kissed up the insides of barely haired legs, pausing to lick and nibble the inside of Sam’s knees, getting more whining giggles for his effort. At the apex of Sam’s colt-long legs he paused, skimming just the tip of his nose over Sam’s balls, already so high and tight with arousal.

“Roll over.” His voice was deep, rough and sounded like it had been unused for days.

Sam groaned but obeyed and Dean was presented with the most perfect backside he’s ever seen.

He wanted to start at Sam’s shoulders again then lick his way down the long muscles of his back, but he was so hard and impatient. His one concession was to push himself up and tongue at the freckle on Sam’s spine and he loved the arch and gasp it earned him. 

He shoved himself back down to his prize; the the place he’d been heading for. He ran a flat, wet tongue up Sam’s crack before he sunk his teeth in, hard, to the plush cheek in front of his face.

“Dean!” It was the first thing Sam had said in ages. Dean growled at the flush of possessiveness that rushed through him at his name coming out of Sam’s mouth like that and the way that Sam seemed to cry out with his whole body when he said it.

He licked through Sam’s crack again. Frustrated with the way he couldn't get where he wanted to be, he smashed his face between Sam’s cheeks, nosing into the darkest part of him and earned another full-body shout for his troubles.

The barest tip of his tongue flicked out over Sam’s furled opening. He tasted the dark, musky skin taste there and Dean was addicted. He pooled saliva on his tongue and let it drip down over the area. He flashed his tongue out again and again and again, softening the muscle and finally getting it inside of Sam. He pointed his tongue and shoved greedily. This is where he’d been needing to be and where he always wanted to be.


	7. First Time Weecest

It wasn't until he turned fifteen that Sam realized wanting something could hurt. He'd wanted things before; a permanent home, a mom, a normal life. He'd wanted toys at Christmas and a dad that hung out with them to play instead of acting like their drill sergeant. But until he was fifteen he never wanted anything like this.

The way he wanted Dean.

Dean, his beautiful older brother, with a smile like the sun and green eyes that sparkled. With freckles like constellations and strong, big hands that were equally capable of disassembling a car as they were delicately soothing the aching growing pains in Sam's calves. He wanted so much that it hurt. He longed. He pined. He yearned like a fucking teenaged girl in one of the books he’d read for his English Lit classes.

“What’s got your panties twisted, short stack?” Speaking of the man haunting Sam, there was his beautiful brother, stomping through the door in too-small jeans and too-big boots from the Salvation Army store and still managing to look like a fucking male model.

“Stop calling me that Dean.” Sam winced when he heard his voice crack and he wiped the back of his wrist across his mouth in frustration.

“Okay, fine, Samuel. Whatever. You gonna be like this all night? Cause I turned down Tina at the diner tonight so that you and I could hang out. I’ll just go find her and have a good time instead.” He reached for his jacket and Sam was only about ten percent sure that Dean was bluffing, so he jumped up from the couch and promptly tripped over his feet trying to keep Dean here. Keep Dean to himself.

He winced as his knees thudded into the floor and his intended shout of “no” came out as a whimper that only the threadbare carpet heard. He lay there, feeling sorry for himself on the dirty carpet, waiting for Dean’s mocking laughter but it never came.

“Okay, Sammy?” Came Dean’s concerned voice instead and he raised his gaze from the floor to see Dean crouching in front of him, hand extended. Sam gathered what little dignity he had left and let Dean help him to his feet, his face flushing at the contact between their hands and the way that Dean’s green eyes roved over his body, checking for injury. He nodded briefly.

“C’mon. I got fifty bucks in my pocket and I wanna spend it with you. Dinner and a couple’a movies? Just us?” Sam couldn’t breathe from the kindness in Dean’s eyes. He swallowed thickly and tried to tell Dean how good it sounded but all he could do was nod again.

“Alright. Grab your jacket, getting cold out there.”

Dinner was pizza with pretzels and beer cheese and a big side salad and when the food kept coming, Sam knew that Dean was spoiling him. He smiled across the table at his brother and got Dean's secret “sammy smile” in return. It made Sam's stomach twist and flip in all the best ways and he had to shift his hips subtly to loosen up his jeans from around his cock.

“Done, kiddo?” Dean asked, wiping his lips with a napkin and belching loudly as he sat back in his chair.

“M’not a kid.” Sam didn't even have the heart to reprimand dean about his manners when his dick was deflating fast with the reminder that dean only saw him as a kid. His heart panged. He wanted.

Sam was subdued on the walk to Blockbuster but when dean said he could choose whatever two movies he wanted, his mood brightened. He wandered the new release outer wall, eventually grabbing “Velvet Goldmine” since he'd heard some good things about it, plus Ewan McGregor, Christian Bale and Johnathan Rhys-Myers were all super hot. In deference to Dean, he debated between “Big Lebowski” and “the Waterboy” agonizing about which one Dean would like more till Dean found him and said they'd rent all three. They grabbed a bucket of microwave popcorn, gummy worms and raisinettes on the way to checkout, where Dean charmed the girl behind the counter into using her employee card and getting them a discount. Sam's mood dropped again.

“Get her number? Gonna meet her later?” He asked sullenly as they headed back to their crappy apartment. He was a few steps along before he realized that Dean had stopped with his mouth hanging open.

“Sammy.” Dean started with reproach clear in his voice and Sam felt his shoulders slump. He dropped his gaze to his worn sneakers on the sidewalk.

“I flirted a little to get something. M’not some kind of manwhore. Is… is that what you think of me?” There was pain clear in Dean's voice and Sam's head shot up to look at his brother.

“No! Dean, no! I just. You flirt and then you get a number and then you get a date. You… you do it a lot. It's not… I mean… it's not a bad thing. I just.. Don’t want to keep you from something else tonight.” Sam replied, feeling shy and idiotic towards the end. Sam’s eyes widened as Dean stepped close enough that they were chest to chest and Sam had to tilt his head back just a little bit to meet Dean’s eyes. There was something on Dean’s face that Sam couldn’t place but he wanted to stretch up and kiss away because it looked a little bit like pain or sadness.

“Sammy… you’re not second place. You’re not some consolation prize when I can’t get a date, you know? Girls? They come and go. They’re fickle and they’re for one night only till we leave town. You’re forever. My Sammy.”

Sam wanted to kiss Dean even more now, and was certain that it was showing on his face. Dean was smirking at him and suddenly Sam realized that they were standing practically pressed together, lost in each other’s eyes, in the middle of the sidewalk. He felt the need to push Dean away, to do the Winchester thing and break the tension with a joke r some well-placed sarcasm but he was loathe to do so.

“C’mon. I’ll even let you pick the first movie.” He turned and nudged Dean’s shoulder with his own to get them moving and couldn’t stop the giant smile on his face when Dean followed immediately, already trying to decide between the two that Sam had picked for him.

They were wrist deep in the popcorn and had just started Velvet Goldmine when it suddenly came to Sam; this was a date. Dean had spoiled him for dinner and was watching the movie that he wanted to watch. They hadn’t fought or bickered at all and Dean was nudging his foot against Sam’s in what Sam could only guess was a flirtatious way. Their hands brushed inside the popcorn and Sam felt himself flush. He didn’t know what to do; he’d not only never been on a date before but this was something he’d wanted so badly for so long that he was nearly delirious with it.

On the screen Ewan McGregor’s character was screaming into a microphone on stage and unbuttoning his pants, letting them fall down to his calves, baring himself to a wild crowd and Sam felt like he was going to burst into flames. He was shocked when he felt Dean’s arm fall heavily over his shoulders. He stopped breathing when he felt Dean’s breath on his ear.

“What kinda movie you got me watchin Sammy?” Sam squeaked when he felt the phantom flick of an ear on his earlobe. He turned his head and their noses smushed together. Sam breathed in Dean’s breath for a moment, feeling himself get hard in his jeans as he tried to read Dean’s face. With sudden clarity, Sam understood. Dean wouldn’t make another move. Dean was laving it up to him.

To Sam, a choice like that wasn’t even a choice. He could ignore it all, pretend it wasn’t happening- that he wasn’t about to get everything he’d ever wanted. Of all the things that Sam knew he was, a coward was not one of them. He leaned forward to press his lips to Dean’s.

It was a horrible kiss, both of them kept their eyes open, Dean’s mouth was slightly parted so Sam ended up kissing his teeth more than his lips, but he couldn’t back down. He wouldn’t. He closed his eyes and tilted his head to the side just a little bit more and suddenly everything clicked. Dean opened his mouth and his tongue slicked into Sam’s mouth. Immediately, there were fireworks. There were tingles running up and down Sam’s spine and he was so hard that he thought he was about to sustain an injury from the zipper of his jeans pressing into his cock. He licked at the tip of Dean’s tongue and Dean groaned into his mouth, shifting his body to the side and gathering Sam into his arms, practically into his lap.

“Dean” Sam panted from his new position, squirming on the tiny, ancient couch until his knees were braced on either side of Dean’s hips and he could feel the bulge of Dean’s cock pressing into his ass. Seconds later, Dean’s big hands moved from where they were braced on Sam’s hips to cup and massage Sam’s ass.

“So gorgeous Sammy. Want you so bad.” Figures Dean would like to run his mouth during sex. Not that Sam is complaining; it’s making him sweat and pant and squirm on Dean’s lap. He whines wordlessly, trying to ask for more of Dean’s voice, to hear more of what Dean is thinking or even wants to do to him. He ducks his head under Dean’s chin and sucks on lump of Dean’s adam’s apple.

“You like that Sammy? Wanna hear all about what I’m gonna do to you? Get your long body, oh fuck like that baby boy, all naked and spread out across my bed.” Dean’s hips and grinding upwards cruelly now and Sam feels like there’s going to be a fucking bruise on his ass from it.

“Gonna taste you everywhere little brother.” The words are so low, Sam barely hears them, but when he does his eye dilate so fast he can feel it happen. He didn’t think there was anything else that Dean could do to turn him on even more but calling him little brother hits buttons he didn’t even know he had. He humped his hips forward, loving the nearly painful drag of his cock against Dean’s flat stomach.

“Oh, like that, little brother? Like hearing about what your big brother wants to do to you?” Sam can only nod and whine, he’s lost all his words and doesn’t care if they ever come back as long as Dean keeps talking to him like this.

“Gonna get you all open for me. Gonna fold you up with your legs at your shoulders and lick you open right here.” Sam didn’t even notice when Dean slipped his hands past the waistband of his jeans to paw at his bare ass. He felt one, thick finger between his cheeks, petting at his hole. “Gonna get my tongue right up inside of you. Taste all the secret, dirty parts of you while you whine and whimper and beg for big brother’s cock.” Sam feels the blunt tip of Dean’s finger pressing into his hole and he’s lost, insensate, coming in his jeans so much that the wet spot spreads out to Dean’s tee-shirt.

“Fuck yeah, baby boy, come for me. Come for you big brother. Come all over me sweetheart.” Dean croons, petting Sam’s hole as he twitches and spasms. 

Sam feels boneless and brainless, he’s shot everything he had out of his dick and the wetness is cooling in his pants as he tries to come back to himself. He feels Dean stand up, holding him in his arms, and carry them to their shared room. Sam feels himself reverently laid down on Dean’s bed and he blinks up at the object of all his wants. Dean looks down with blown-wide pupils and messed up hair and a flush on his cheeks that Sam knows is from him. For him. Feeling bold, Sam pops the button on his jeans and wiggles his way out of them without a word. He strips off his shirt, too, before he squirms backwards until he’s in the center of Dean’s bed.

He knows that it’s still his move. He pulls a kiss swollen bottom lip into his mouth and bites down to keep himself in the moment as he hooks his forearms under his knees and lifts them, folding himself in half just like Dean had described.

Dean pounces.


End file.
